I spent the last ten years of my life sitting on a porch. Now, here I am, doing the same damn thing on the other side of the country.
“You hungry?”
I blink, lifting my head. Ginny, the housekeeper and Andy’s wife, stands at the bottom of the stairs. She’s a willowy woman with cropped, graying hair, always in a sensible, ranch friendly outfit and flat shoes. Right away, I liked her steady presence.
“Sorry?” I say.
She holds out both hands, a pie tin between them. “Andy said you might be hungry, dear,” she says. “He said he didn’t see you at the mess hall for breakfast, lunch, or dinner.”
“Yeah. Not much for crowds,” I say.
“Well, there’s no crowd right here, so you take this and eat,” she says, pushing the warm pan into my hand. I expect her to leave, but she sinks down on the step beside me and hands me a fork from her pocket.
Alright, I guess I'm eating whether I want to or not. I peel back the foil to reveal a large chunk of beef, gravy, beans, and biscuits. My stomach tightens at the smell; maybe I’m hungry after all.
“Thank you,” I say, wondering why she even cares.
“Eat,” she says sternly.
I’m not about to fight her on that, so I start eating. It’s pretty good. It’s not like what Freya makes, but it’s a very close second. Honestly, it could have tasted like dirt, and I’d be just as overwhelmed as I clean my plate, wondering why she chose to leave her cabin and come all the way over here to give me this. Maybe making sure the new hires fit in is part of her job. That would make more sense. Ginny and Andy are the ones who manage the ranch, after all.
“Thank you,” I say again when my plate is empty. She takes it off my lap.
“You’ve sat out on the porch a lot since you got back,” she says.
“Yeah. Not much else to do when work is done.”
She chews her lip, squinting over at me. “The other wranglers go into South Platte, into Knifley. You could go down with them, even though you're sober now. It might be fun.”
I shake my head. “I’m not really good in crowds.”
Into my head comes the sensation of being crowded in the cages they used to transport us into the vertical mine shafts. Even with all the new machinery, we’d still get put down there. We were packed in like sardines, back to front, side to side, looking up as the sunlight got further and further away and the air got colder.
My stomach turns. I take a deep breath. I don’t need anybody around here finding out all the details of my past and using it to feel sorry for me. The past is as gone as my stepfather and two brothers. I don’t want it resurrecting any more than I want to see them again. Maybe that’s a terrible thing to feel, but I haven’t felt a hint of sadness since finding out Aiden and Ryland died the night we rescued Freya from that house.
That doesn’t mean I’m not conflicted over it.
I am, just not sad.
“You’re not really too social, are you?” Ginny asks, pulling me out of my head.
“Nope, not really.”
“What you need is somebody to get you out of your shell,” she says cheerfully, standing. “Maybe I know a girl in town you’d like.”
“I don’t think I'm ready to be dating, but I appreciate that,” I say.
“You’re never ready until you find the one,” she says, giving me a smile that says I haven’t deterred her at all. “I’ll think about it.”
I shake my head, not moving from the porch as she disappears up the path into her cabin. Kindness isn’t easy for me to accept. It’s a new concept, and it rings my alarm bells because before now, I hadn’t experienced it beyond the bond I have with Freya. We were always kind to each other, trying to guess what having a loving relationship was like, since nobody ever showed it to us. For her, it was putting a blanket over me on the couch when I passed out. For me, it was risking getting my ass beat and standing up for her when Aiden was particularly cruel. Now, we both have to learn what kindness is when the bar isn’t sitting in hell.
I get up and go inside. It’s early, but I’m tired, and I’d rather fall asleep before it gets dark.
CHAPTER FOUR
JANIE
My mom calls again less than twelve hours later, at six a.m. on a Friday. I bolt upright in bed, forgetting for a second I’m alone now, and reach for my phone, swiping the screen. It hits me all over again when I see the empty side of the bed, and I have to choke out a sorry sounding hello.
